The Story of Primrose Everdeen
by Pagiepi810
Summary: when you think of our favorite heroines little sister, the one whose name started it all, what do you think? A little girl who needed to be protected? Hopefully, this story will change your mind.


Before I start my story I want to ask how many of you know the name Primrose Everdeen. I bet a lot of you do, and when you think of that name you think of a little girl whose big sister protected her. you think of innocence, youth, even helplessness. Well here's her story. I hope it changes your mind.

Primrose Everdeen was the tender age of twelve at the start of our story. She still clung to the youth of her childhood, while at the same time being thrust into the cruel world of adulthood. It was the first year she was old enough to attend the Reaping with her sister Katniss. It seemed fitting to Prim, as those close to her called her, that her first year coincided with her sisters last year, as if the universe wanted to maximize the possible amount of torture it could put her family through. Every year one of the two daughter's names were on one of those white slips of paper, was another year her family spent in fear.

Her mother was still grieving over her father and hadn't made the process easier for her two daughters. In her self-absorbed mourning she left her young daughters to not only fend for themselves, but also care for their own mother. Prim's older sister took to the woods, hunting with her friend Gale, to provide food for their family.

Likewise Prim, who was never good with a bow, found work wherever she could. She folded laundry and cleaned houses, but in her district not many people could afford the luxury. However Prim did find steady work in housekeeping in the Victors Village. Prim kept her work a secret from her ever protective sister. Katniss wouldn't approve of Prim shouldering any of their burdens, especially if she knew it involved cleaning up after districts twelve's only victor when he drank away his sorrows. But Prim didn't mind taking care of Haymitch. Similar to her sister, it was her nature to take care of people, just in less altruistic ways. In a way the twelve year old enjoyed mothering the older man. And secretly she knew that Haymitch was fond of the little girl who cleaned his house. He viewed her as sort of a niece he never had, which is why he paid her to clean his house, even though most of the rooms were rarely used, and thus not needing cleaning.

The day before the Reaping Prim's hands were shaking as she was polishing the already shining silver. She was used to the terror of the Reaping. The cold hand that grabbed her heart as Effie reached her hand into the glass bowl was an old friend. For several years she had watched her sisters Reaping, and prayed Katniss's name wasn't drawn. But it was different to be experiencing it herself, because it was surreal. Ever since she could remember she was used to the idea that at any moment a friend or familiar face could be sent to their sure death. But she had never really understood that one day that would be her, maybe it was because whenever the Reaping did come around, Prim's thoughts were on her sister and Gale. Despite this, Primrose did not harbor the belief that nothing bad could ever happen to her. Her whole life had been full of events that no child should have to deal with and now that she was struck with realization she could almost hear Effie's voice calling her name. She could see the peacekeepers grabbing her, feel their unforgiving grips on her forearm as they carried her away. She could see her mother's empty gaze, and know she would never be right again, she could hear Katniss screaming and knew the look on Gales face as he tried to remain strong for them.

The fork Prim had been polishing for the last twenty minutes slipped from her trembling fingers. It clattered to the ground, the sound echoing throughout the lonely house and startling her back to reality while simultaneously sending shivers of fear down her spine. The sound had been… forbearing.

"You should go home," the gravelly voice came from behind Prim. Startled once again, she turned to see the man who had filled the void as father figure to the young girl. Her gaze met his; it was sad. Sad and understanding.

"You should be at home, with your family." Prim's eyes broke his gaze and found the ground, settling on something much less painful.

"But I haven't finished yet," even to her own ears, she knew the response was weak, Haymitch knew just as well as she did that she was thrilled by his offer.

He smirked, "I think I'll be okay, but I do expect you on time for work the day after tomorrow."

"Thank you," unexpectedly, the young girl threw her arms around the victor's neck. It had been years since anyone had even touched him. After his performance in the games most people were too scared by his unpredictable nature. Many felt that his easy going and drunken ways hid a much more feral nature, and that scared them more than if he had been outright violent.

After a moment of shock he returned her hug, it amazed him how the same girl who looked at him with such wise and pity-filled eyes could hug him with the type of innocence and love that only a child could posses. He could only pray that innocence remained with her for a while to come.

She pulled away and gave him a sincere, yet sad smile. She walked past him, heading towards the door.

"Prim?" he called her name, but it wavered as if he was unsure if what he was going to say would do more harm than good. The girl turned to face him again.

"If you or your sister are reaped, I will do all that is in my power to make sure you are reunited." The offer was slim in the ways of reassurance but it was all that he could do.

The girl smiled with those wise eyes of hers. She knew there was nothing he could do if she was reaped. Only one person from district twelve ever won and Haymitch was certainly no twelve-year-old girl when he won. If her name was called it was as good as a death sentence


End file.
